Sleeping Soundly
by PlanetOfTheWeepingWillow
Summary: Gilbert lost his job, and his grip on life. Everything goes downwards from there and the only person who helps him, who knows why, is his brother. Atmospheric one-shot


Ludwig opened the door by ramming his shoulder into it while pushing down on the door handle with his knee. Normally, he didn't do this. He was an average, albeit huge man with hauntingly cold features. This time it was a special case. He had his older brother hanging limply from his arms. Gilbert hiccuped and squirmed Ludwig.

On the road from the club to the car to the house, Gilbert had unceasingly moaned. He had bribed and begged, even threatened Ludwig to turn back. Just one more drink. One more dance. That saucy redhead was about to put some digits down on the napkin. Gilbert grunted and howled as if it caused him pain to escape the place that had soused him up good.

Ludwig did not allow him to, as he put it, make a fool of himself under flashing lights and throw away all his earnings on women that wouldn't remember his name in the morning. To this, Gilbert spat at him and slapped his hands to his forehead. He dragged down, stretching his albino features, and moaning continuously. Ludwig cranked up the car radio, filling the car with pulsing cello and a shivering violin. Gilbert calmed down at this and seemed to fall asleep. Ludwig, once having reached his house, dragged the limp body to the door. He shoved the key in and proceeded to open the door.

Once inside, Ludwig set Gilbert on the couch.

"Stay here."

"Whhhhyyyyy?" Gilbert turned his neck to glower. His eyes were redder than normal. The eyes of a man who had nothing left to lose.

Ludwig huffed. "You need to get a better grip on yourself." He went to the kitchen and found a foul tomato tonic. He mixed it in a cup, the red sludge rising up the sides of the cup, and returned to the dimly lit living room. Gilbert pinched his lips at the sight. He shook his head furiously.

Ludwig stepped forwards and gently grabbed Gilbert's shoulder, twisting him so he had no choice. Despite the string of curses shooting at him, Ludwig tipped the chunky drink down Gilbert's throat.

That was not to sober Gilbert up, it was to let the poison out of his system. Ludwig set the cup on the desk. He left again, letting Gilbert gag and huff silently. When he returned, just in time, he set a red bucket under Gilbert. Gilbert ducked forwards and spilled his guts into the plastic. The sound disgusted Ludwig, but not enough to make him tear his eyes away.

The red and blue carpet was expensive.

Once Gilbert had finished emptying his stomach's contents and seemed a little clearer, he leaned back and rubbed his face again. Ludwig brought him water, feeling like a maid running around after her mistress. Gilbert swiftly chugged the water down, sputtering slightly. Afterwards, Gilbert settled down on the couch. Ludwig sighed. He took Gilbert's jacket and shoes off, throwing a thin blanket over him. He cleaned up the bucket and brought it, along with a full cup of water, back next to him. Gilbert didn't show any signs of waking soon. His breathing was deep, slow.

Ludwig sighed again. He placed his hand on Gilbert's cold forehead, brushing away the few strands of white hair that fell down. He remembered a time, long ago, when Gilbert was the one to tuck Ludwig into bed, to hug him when he got the flu, to kiss his forehead when he was upset.

The roles had reversed. The card's other side was showing. The time when the older brother fiercely protected his little sibling was long gone. It was over. Never to be returned to. Ludwig thought this grimly, but not longingly. He was one to accept these facts. He was only worried for the fact that Gilbert, a free spirit who believed everything had order and purpose, would react violently. Again.

Ludwig ended up falling asleep on the couch. The moon swept past the sky, consuming night, and finally lifting the curtain to day again. The sun poured over the horizon, bringing fresh light. Gilbert emptied his system once more. For an hour, while Ludwig slept, he quietly sipped water and suffered through his blazing head ache.

And boy does life suck, Gilbert thought. _One second you've got it all under control, Gil, roofing houses and making a decent earning to keep a roof over your head and to keep from totally starving. The next you're running off into town like a new adult who finally has some freedom. You run into those clubs, pinch a few girls, think you're the goddamn king of the world. The next your kid brother's tucking you into bed and making sure you don't die of alcohol poisoning. Sorry liver, the brain called. It has an addiction. Better pack up and leave 'fore you regret it. _

For a while, Gilbert considered leaving quietly and letting Ludwig rest. By the time he had gathered the strength, Ludwig stirred and sat up. Gilbert turned to him, feeling horrible all over again.

Ludwig wore his light blue sweatshirt and faded jeans. The clothes from the previous morning. He must have heard his older brother had gotten into trouble and dropped everything just to help out. Ludwig rubbed his tired eyes and pushed his hair back. The blond bangs bounced back in defiance.

"Why?" Gilbert grunted.

Ludwig turned to him, his eyes wide.

"Why don't you let me be… You won't get in trouble." Gilbert said, taking another sip of water. He felt trashy in his torn jeans and graphic t-shirt. The front was stained from who knows what. "You can leave me at any time."

"I can. Doesn't mean I have to." Ludwig said. He sat back, listening to Gilbert. This very well may be the last time he ever got his brother to talk.

Gilbert coughed. It felt like sharp little daggers had been pinned against the inside of his throat.

"What happened to you?" Ludwig asked when the silence drew on too long.

"I got sick." Gilbert said.

"No, before." Ludwig said. "When you lost your job. Why did you stop, well, living? Why did you stop living? Goddammit, Gilbert. What the hell got into you?"

Gilbert was annoyed. He sat up, frowning deeply. His arms proved too weak and he flopped back down. Maybe it was from malnourishment. Or maybe it was the glistening tears lining Ludwig's eyes.

"I don't know. I got sick. Everything sort of fell apart and I had to find a distraction or else I would, I dunno, rip my skin off and eat it or something." Gilbert said meekly. "I did find another job, roofing, but it hurts because I can barely afford to eat. I don't know why I can't do better. Maybe I just hate myself."

So much rage and passion filled his voice that the tears Ludwig gathered began to spill. He pressed his lips together and wiped his cheeks hastily.

"Live with me." Ludwig said.

"And cause you more trouble?" Gilbert spat. He stared at a little patch of sunlight on the ceiling. Who knew mornings were so peaceful. So beautiful. He refrained from smiling.

Ludwig shook his head.

"Oh, Gil…"

And, because words could not convey the feelings he felt, Ludwig got up and pressed a small kiss to Gilbert's forehead.

* * *

><p><em>I don't own Hetalia<em>


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